


Don’t stand so close to me

by Neurocrat



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, College AU, M/M, Nerdy philosophy discussion, Professor!Foggy, Religion, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurocrat/pseuds/Neurocrat
Summary: “Matt,” Foggy says, and hears the asking note in his voice sound more likeplease-yesthanplease-stopas he’d nobly intended.“It’s okay,” Matt breathes. “I’m not your student anymore.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Daredevil bingo - age difference

Foggy is just finishing up his lecture on the new field of neuroethics when the door at the top of the lecture hall opens quietly, and a familiar figure with dark glasses and a cane enters the room.

Foggy’s speech stumbles as the figure sits down in the back row, but he picks up again quickly. He gestures with the laser pointer at the human brain diagram on the powerpoint. “So, think about it – this area of the brain, and its function to tie emotion-related information into our decision-making, this actually governs the moral choices we make in life. We all are using emotion all the time to guide our moral decisions: it’s how the human brain works.

"Okay, we’ll pick up from there on Monday; remember to do the reading about the Libet experiments. Have a great weekend, everybody,” Foggy finishes as the students shove their laptops and notebooks in their backpacks and start to move out of the lecture hall. Foggy busies himself turning off the projector and gathering his notes, but he steals a glance up at the back of the hall. Matt Murdock, his favorite student – his favorite for some of the right reasons, and quite a few of the wrong ones – is smiling at him, coming down the steps to the front of the room, letting his cane guide him, as the rest of the students make their way out.

“You!” Foggy mock-scowls as Matt approaches the podium. “Didn’t you graduate? What are you doing back here – did you flunk out, after all?”

“Hey, Professor Nelson,” Matt greets him, laughing, tucking the cane under one arm and holding out the other for a hug.

“Oh, come on, Matt, we’re on a first-name basis by now, I think,” Foggy says, hugging him back and pointedly ignoring the way Matt presses his chest into Foggy’s, his cheek against the side of Foggy’s head, for a little too long.

They detach, both grinning, but Foggy leaves his hand on Matt’s shoulder absently. “You did graduate, didn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t have flunked you out of Theory of Ethics?”

Matt makes a _pfff_ noise. “You gave me an A. I guess you don’t remember the glowing comments you wrote on all my papers.”

“It’s dim, but it’s coming back to me,” Foggy jokes with him. “So, how’s law school treating you?”

“It’s good,” Matt says. “Kind of easy, actually, compared with some of my undergrad courses.”

“Braggart,” Foggy says. “Columbia law school: Deemed ‘too easy’ by Matt Murdock.”

Matt is laughing again. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know. Well, I hope my ethics and moral reasoning lectures sunk in a little; some of that might be of use when you go on to be a big, important lawyer.”

“It did,” Matt says, his face more serious. “It will be of use. I was hoping to maybe borrow some books from you, actually. For some further reading? And also, we could just, you know… Catch up.” He turns up the juice on his bright smile, and Foggy blinks a few times, going woozy with it.

“Of course,” Foggy says. “Let’s go get some coffee, in the department lounge?” He offers his elbow to Matt, brushing it against Matt’s arm so Matt knows it’s there, and leads him out of the lecture hall. Keeping up the conversation valiantly, like the witty, verbose professor that he is, while the strong grip of Matt’s hand on his arm and the warmth of Matt’s body near his own invade constantly into his consciousness. _The man is 22 years old_ , Foggy tells himself, mentally bitch-slapping his brain for thinking about his former student in that way. _For fuck’s sake, Nelson: when he was born, you were old enough to vote._

And that’s why he suggested the department lounge. A big, open atrium, with people moving in and out; a nice, open, very public place. Where Foggy can better force himself to act friendly but professorial; keep that little, appropriate amount of distance. That buffer of decorum to stay sane after this hot former student came to his classroom to say hi and chat. This 22-year-old who likes him a lot more than students normally like their professors.

Foggy gets them both Styrofoam cups of coffee from the kitchen area, and they take a seat at one of the tables. Matt knows just how attractive he is. Foggy can tell by how he moves, how he carries himself. He also knows he impressed Foggy in both of the philosophy courses he took with him, Foggy’s intro course and his advanced ethics seminar. Matt was in Foggy’s office hours all the time, drawing Foggy into discussions that were actually interesting and new for Foggy, not something he got that frequently from students. They would get excited over the ideas together, and Matt would get flushed, leaning forward in his chair.

If anything, Matt exudes more confidence now than last year as an undergraduate. He’s probably running circles around all the other law students. Talking more about his experiences, he complains about the other students a little. “They’re, well. You know. A lot of them just want to make stupid amounts of money. They don’t care about anything else.”

Foggy shrugs. “I shrug at that,” he says, and Matt laughs happily at his narration. “To each his own, right, Matt? Pursuit of maximum money is one possible value system among many. Who’s to say that’s not a valid approach to life?”

Matt makes a face at him, knowing Foggy is bullshitting him: Foggy knows Matt can hear the smirk in his voice. “ _You’re_ to say,” Matt says. “After everything you’ve taught me, _I’m_ to say. As I learned in your classes, pursuit of wealth doesn’t lead to happiness or well-being.”

“Ah, but one’s own happiness and well-being are not measures of moral goodness,” Foggy reminds him, “except if you’re a hedonist.”

“Well, as you know, I believe in a God that wants us to do more in this world than make money,” Matt reminds him, smiling.

Matt’s Catholicism always put an interesting wrinkle in their discussions. Foggy tried to walk a line with that, to challenge some of Matt’s Catholic-based assumptions while respecting Matt’s religious beliefs. “And as you know, I’m a militant agnostic,” Foggy says, dragging out his old joke that somehow still has Matt laughing gamely. “ _’I don’t know, and you don’t know either.’_ For all we know, you could die and find out God is C.E.O. of the universe, and the only criteria for getting into the pearly gates is your net worth.”

Matt shakes his head at him. “That’s ridiculous, and you know it.”

Foggy chuckles. “Ridiculous? The virgin birth sounds pretty ridiculous to a lot of people, Matt. Eating the symbolic flesh of your deity’s human son each week sounds a little ridiculous to me, no offense. How do you know what God is? How do you know what he wants us to do? We have to try to figure it out for ourselves in our tiny, eyeblink-long lives.”

Matt leans back in his chair. He tilts his head, with a fond expression for Foggy. “I do agree with you on that,” he says. “The God I believe in does leave it largely up to us to figure out morality.”

Matt must know that Foggy could be susceptible to the combination of someone being wicked hot, with a charming personality, _and_ making strong, incisive arguments in his written assignments. In other words, that intelligence is a turn-on for someone like Foggy. This whole conversation is flirtation, and Matt seems aware of it. His body language says so. Just as Foggy thinks this, Matt runs a hand over the side of his hair and down the back of his neck, giving Foggy that half-smile. He’s doing his goddamned best to make Foggy want him, and it’s working. This kid. He’s going to drive Foggy insane.

“So, that’s what I was hoping you could help me with,” Matt says (and Foggy’s mind duly generates some things he could help Matt with.) “A book or article, within the field of ethics, that could help me school my fellow law students about the root of all evil.”

“Well, when you put it that way, you should go ask a priest, not me,” Foggy snarks.

“C’mon, Profe—Foggy. You know what I mean. I’m sure you have a lot of resources.”

“You’ve still got your books from my seminar, don’t you?” Foggy says to him. “Everything you ever wanted to know about ethics, but were afraid to ask, is right there.” He’s a little too excited at the idea of having Matt in his office with him, which is why he should probably try to talk Matt out of going to his office.

“Yeah, of course. But something specifically about the moral pitfalls of corporate culture, what so many of them are trying to pursue. About the ambition, the pursuit of profit, the social climbing…”

“I probably have a relevant reading or two,” Foggy hears himself saying. “But, it wouldn’t be in Braille or as an audiofile.”

“If it’s short,” Matt says, “you could read it to me.”

Foggy swallows. “Sure, Matt,” he says. Being a good teacher and mentor. Helping his eager (former) student in his quest for knowledge. That’s all.

Matt grins, finishes his coffee and stands up. “Well, let’s go, then!”

Foggy thinks fast, comes up with some relevant books and articles in his head as they walk, tries to remember if he actually has them on his shelf. He tries to ignore the fact that Matt could probably easily find this stuff on his own, or follow references from his books from Foggy’s class. No, it’s easier this way, coming to his former professor.

As Foggy unlocks his office door and enters, Matt runs his fingers over the rainbow flag hanging on the outside of the office door. Matt knows what it is; Foggy described it to him during one of their rambling office-hours conversations. Foggy is out and proud in his professional life.

“Nobody still gives you any shit about this, do they?” Matt asks, his voice defiant, as if he is hoping someone did so he could ruin their life for them.

“Nope, never,” Foggy replies, leading Matt to the couch and sitting down in the chair across from it. “Good, solid, liberal university environment. Not like that religion you like so much.”

Matt makes a hurt noise. “Not fair. It’s coming around. Even the Pope said, ‘Who am I to judge?’”

“Yeah, he sounds real tolerant, until you look at his homophobic record,” Foggy says. He knows he’s pushing, and he would not do this with most students, but Matt knows him well and the topic of Catholicism and its faults is part of their joking-but-serious dynamic. Matt usually is game for some healthy criticism of his religion.

Matt’s face gets serious, though - he doesn’t look in the mood for a light-hearted jousting over the strengths and failings of Catholicism. He sighs. “That’s one of the things I struggle the most with, with the Church,” he says, finding the small couch Foggy keeps crammed in his office with his cane, and sitting down on it. “I still don’t always feel like they have a place for me there.”

Foggy doesn’t have anything useful to say to that; he just makes a _hmm_ noise in his throat. In their talks while Matt was taking Foggy’s Intro Philosophy course two years ago, Matt circuitously came out to Foggy. The rainbow flag on Foggy’s door seemed to give him the courage. Foggy talked him through some of his questions and worries, many of which were no doubt created or exacerbated by Matt’s religious background.

Matt sighs, then smiles in Foggy’s direction. “You were very helpful to me,” he says, “when I was working through all that stuff.”

“Well, I’m glad, Matt,” Foggy tells him. “It isn’t easy. For anyone.”

Matt nods. “It means a lot to me. That I could trust you. That you … Were so caring.”

Foggy bites his lip. “That’s … Thank you.” His voice cracks. “But it’s only what anyone should do. What others did for me when …” _When I was your age_. “…When I was coming out for the first time.”

Matt grins. “Baby gay Foggy. Awww, you must’ve been cute.”

Foggy snorts. “I’m _still_ cute,” he jokes, without thinking.

“I _know_ ,” Matt says, grin widening. Foggy twitches, feeling his face get hot.

“Um, no, you pointedly do _not_ know, Matt,” he says, laughing, but with a stern note. Under his obvious meaning – that is, Matt is blind, and cannot attest to how cute or un-cute Foggy may be – Foggy is giving Matt a warning.

Matt doesn’t take it. He scooches toward the edge of the couch, closer to Foggy in his chair. “I could find out,” he says in a low voice.

There’s a beat of silence; Foggy feels his heart racing. _Danger!_ He tells himself. _Student!_

 _Former_ _student_ , says a mutinous part of his mind. _Legal adult._

“You mean, feel my face?” Foggy asks. “To see what I look like?”

Matt nods. “I’ve never gotten to do that.”

Foggy chooses to interpret this whole situation as innocent, flying in the face of the evidence: Matt’s body language, his sly smile; Foggy’s own flush and fast breathing. He shrugs. “Sure, I guess it’s only fair. You’ve known me for two years, and I’ve gotten to see what you look like this whole time.” He winces at his own choice of words.

Matt pats the couch cushion next to him, and Foggy gets up and moves there. He tries to take care to not touch any part of Matt, but the couch is a compact one, designed to fit into a space like Foggy’s cramped office, and he can’t help but touch his knee to Matt’s. He takes Matt’s outstretched hands and brings them to his own face.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as Matt’s fingertips brush over his face in sweeping movements, taking in the shape of his forehead and eyebrows, the inset of his eyes, the slight upward curve of his nose between his cheekbones. Then Matt’s fingers are on his mouth, and Foggy tries to fight arousal. It’s impossible. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes to look at Matt as Matt touches his lips, and Matt looks hungry, his mouth open slightly. He runs the side of a thumb over Foggy’s lower lip, too slowly.

“Matt,” Foggy says, and hears the asking note in his voice sound more like _please-yes_ than _please-stop_ as he’d nobly intended.

“It’s okay,” Matt breathes. “I’m not your student anymore.” He leans forward and kisses Foggy.

A sound like a whimper comes from Foggy, much to his embarrassment. He knows he should stay still, just stock still and not make any sign one way or another, but Matt’s mouth is so warm, his kisses so firm and slow, so Foggy has time to feel each part of his mouth, each movement. He leans forward and wraps his arms around Matt, who grunts in satisfaction ( _he knew, he knew Foggy wanted him, he was just waiting for the confirmation_ ) and embraces Foggy back. Also, there is Matt’s tongue pressing in between Foggy’s parted lips, and Foggy jolts back to himself, pulls his head back, panting.

“Matt,” he says. “Matt, Matt, Matt… I’m shaking my head.”

“Yes,” Matt says. He’s out of breath, too. “I can hear your hair swishing. Why are you shaking your head?”

“A lot of reasons,” Foggy replies. “Where do I start. Let’s see: One, I’m old enough to be your dad--”

Matt makes a dismissing noise. “Only in a teen-pregnancy kind of situation.”

Foggy ignores that, although Matt has a point. “Two, I taught you – I mentored you. It’s an abuse of power, it’s taking advantage.”

Matt throws his head back and laughs. “Does it seem like you’re taking advantage of me right now? Anyway, I’m not your student or mentee anymore.”

“You just said that I was there for you in a difficult time,” Foggy presses on. “How do I know you’re not just confusing your warm, fuzzy feelings from that, with…”

“With lust?” Matt smirks. “Please, Foggy. Don’t insult me. I’m 22, not 16.”

Foggy barks a laugh. “If you could see it from my end, those numbers both just sound extremely young.”

Matt’s face gets serious. “I know the difference,” Matt says. “You did mentor me, you did help me, and I do appreciate that. That was two years ago. I’ve gotten to know you in the meantime. I’ve gotten to like you. A lot.” He takes Foggy’s hand, and before Foggy knows what he is doing, he places it on his crotch. “This isn’t warm, fuzzy feelings.”

Foggy slowly pulls away, but not before feeling how hard Matt is, how thick. His throat hitches. “Well, it _is_ warm, actually,” he says.

Matt laughs. “Always pedantic.”

“Not here,” Foggy blurts. “This is my office. I work here. Not here.”

“Alright,” Matt says, stroking Foggy’s thigh, leaning in to touch his lips to Foggy’s one more time, but gently. “Let’s go to your place.”

Foggy clears his throat. “What about… The readings you wanted?”

“Later,” says Matt.

\---

Matt can’t keep his hands off Foggy in the subway. He’s caressing Foggy’s knee one minute, trying to kiss his neck the next. Foggy is trapped between wanting it and not wanting to have a boner that’s visible to everyone on the train.

“Matt, Matty, PDA,” he protests, but he can’t help laughing. “It’s impolite.”

Matt shrugs. “So? People can just look away if they don’t want to see it, right?”

“Plus, I must look like some dirty old man, seducing his innocent young student.”

Matt snorts. “Would you stop,” he says. “You’re not that fucking old, Foggy. I just felt your face. You don’t even have any wrinkles.”

Foggy narrows his eyes, a bit miffed. “I do so have wrinkles,” he gripes. “They’re there when I smile.”

“Oh? I’d better feel you again, then,” says Matt. Foggy’s too charmed by him to protest, and just laughs as Matt scoots even closer to him to brush his fingers over his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could add an additional chapter to this, or I could stop here... I wrote this much & kinda got stuck, I dunno how the sex scene would go down at Foggy's place. I would love some ideas/inspiration, LEAVE ME COMMENTS!! :) 
> 
> EDIT! Now with sexually explicit chapter 2, by popular demand :D
> 
> Pretty much everything I know about philosophy of ethics comes from the excellent TV show, The Good Place. (Watch it! It’s so good.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration finally struck! I figured spanking and teasing and a little bit of butt worship were in order. Completely non-negotiated but enthusiastically consensual kink. Oh, and some anal sex.

Inside Foggy’s walkup, Matt is on him almost as soon as Foggy closes the door. His arms around Foggy’s waist, his wet mouth on Foggy’s. Foggy makes small noises, makes a weak attempt to break free in order to lock the door (damn, Matt is strong), and then gives in as he feels Matt’s tongue slip between his lips.

Foggy moves them clumsily toward the bedroom. He’s still thinking about how to be a polite host, even as Matt’s tongue is down his throat, Matt’s hands are untucking his button-down shirt, and Matt’s body is pressed against him. “Mm—can I make you a drink or something?” He manages, in a pause they take for air.

Matt makes a strange laugh. “’Make me a drink’. You _do_ sound like an old man.”

Foggy’s mouth falls open and his eyebrows draw together. “What? I’m just…”

Matt kisses him again to shut him up. “A dirty, _dirty_ old man,” Matt says, “seducing his innocent, _helpless_ former student.” And he closes one eye slowly in a theatrical wink.

“Oh…” Foggy mutters, laughing and shaking his head. “Oh, you little shit…”

Matt grins at him. “Little, huh?” With that, he takes Foggy by the waist and flips them onto the bed. How Matt even knew where the bed was, Foggy’s not sure; they were feet away from it a second ago. Matt rolls Foggy on top of him.

“Dirty old man,” he teases, taking Foggy’s hand and jamming it down his own pants. “Taking advantage.”

Foggy is starting to see Matt’s (sarcastic) point. He strokes his fingers along Matt’s cock and gets to bask in Matt’s long moan, arching his back and pressing his hips into Foggy’s hand.

Well, alright, then. If that’s the way Matt wants it.

“I think you maybe need to be taught a lesson,” Foggy says, squeezing Matt’s cock. “A lesson about disrespecting your elders.”

“Mmm,” says Matt, wriggling out of Foggy’s grip and turning onto his stomach under him. “I’m already very good at disrespecting my elders. But, I guess there’s always more to learn.” He has undone his pants somehow underneath himself, and then pushes them and his boxers slowly down to the backs of his thighs. Foggy loses himself a moment in the sight of Matt’s round, muscular ass pushing up at him.

Foggy thinks of himself as a person who appreciates the male butt in all its forms. Narrower, wider, fleshier, skinnier – they’re all good. He certainly means no disrespect to the lovely asses of various ages he’s been fortunate enough to see over the years, his ex-boyfriends, his flings.

But Matt’s. Matt’s 22-year-old, ridiculously-fit (what is it he does again? Kickboxing or something?), genetically-blessed ass. It’s a fucking revelation. It will ruin him for other asses if he isn’t careful.

Foggy wants to bury his face in between those round cheeks and just moan worshipful praise to Matt’s ass until he can’t breathe. But he’s got a job to do. He promised Matt a lesson. He sits up.

“Get on my lap,” he says. “Face down.” He’s going for firm dom, and hopes Matt doesn’t notice the wobble in his voice.

“Yes, Sir, Professor Sir,” Matt purrs, deliberately overdoing it, and undulates himself over Foggy’s legs until his bare ass is right over Foggy’s knee. Foggy shuts his mouth and swallows the drool that was forming watching the movements of Matt’s lower back muscles. Matt’s hard cock, still trapped in his boxers, nudges Foggy’s inner thigh.

“Alright, about disrespecting elders,” Foggy says. He draws back and smacks the closer butt cheek. Matt gasps and tenses. Foggy feels the ripples of his abs against his legs. He smacks the other cheek, always one to strive for butt-cheek parity.

“Sorry, Professor, I just don’t understand this lesson,” Matt says. “You might have to give it to me a little harder.”

Harder? Jesus. Foggy winds up and slaps Matt’s ass with everything he’s got. Matt moans, his body jerking. “I believe in you, Matty, I know you’ll –“ smack – “catch on eventually,” Foggy says, grunting with exertion.

“Yeah,” Matt pants. “Yeah, I’m starting to get it. Now, hold on-“ Foggy dutifully pauses – “Let me try out what I’ve learned.” Matt clears his throat. “How bad do you need to get down on your knees and suck my cock, Sir? On a scale of one to ten?”

Foggy snorts. He can’t help it. “D-plus on respect, Matty,” he says, laughing, unable to keep up his dom voice. “Not your best work.” He spanks Matt fast and hard, messing with his alternating-cheek pattern just to get Matt to gasp. After a few more smacks, Matt is grinding against Foggy’s thighs.

Foggy bends down to speak quietly right by Matt’s ear. “You want me to fuck this smart ass of yours?” Matt groans luxuriously. “Fuck that disrespect right out of you?”

“ _God,_ yes. Yes, Professor,” Matt begs, and there’s no smirk in his voice anymore; his submission sounds genuine. Foggy shivers.

“Okay,” Foggy replies, getting ahold of himself. “Okay, I will. One more thing first.” He fumbles in his pocket. “For science.”

“Is… Is that…?” Matt starts, and yelps as the coin hits his right butt cheek. It rebounds at least a couple inches and hits the ground, rolling. “Did you just bounce an actual _quarter_ off my ass?”

“I did,” Foggy says calmly. “The legends are true.” He shifts out from under Matt, who’s laughing in surprise, and opens his nightstand drawer. “Dammit,” he mumbles, digging around among notebooks and old glasses cases and bags of cough drops for the condoms and lube. It’s been a little while since he last got laid. As he undoes his belt, Matt crawls over to him on hands and knees and starts kissing Foggy’s neck, working his way up.

“You want to know how many times I jerked off thinking about you,” Matt says softly, “after our hot intellectual debates in your office hours?” his tongue slips in Foggy’s ear, and Foggy drops the lube bottle on the floor.

“No! Yes. No. Fuck,” Foggy says, picking up the lube again.

Matt chuckles in his throat. He gets up on his knees next to Foggy and strips his shirt off, then starts unbuttoning Foggy’s. “Sometimes, you were so on a roll in your lectures, so fucking… Cocky,” he goes on. “It just… The way you knew your shit and you _knew_ you knew it. The way you kept us on our toes, made us think.”

“That’s just doing my job, Matty,” Foggy says. He shrugs out of his shirt and tugs his pants the rest of the way off. His hard-on springs up.

“Oh, stop being so humble,” Matt says, lying back on his back. “You know you’re brilliant. And sexy.”

“I know one of those things.” Foggy guides Matt’s left leg up, pouring lube onto his right hand, and strokes Matt’s asshole until his fingertip slides in easily. Matt makes a noise of pleasure and wraps his leg tight around Foggy’s back. Foggy works his finger deeper inside and massages the good spot until Matt’s begging him, half-incoherent. Foggy adds another finger. “Maybe one and a half of those things,” he amends. Matt’s so responsive to his touch, it’s making him feel like some kind of sex god.

He works Matt with three fingers, watching Matt groan and writhe beautifully. His dick is throbbing against his stomach, but he could honestly do this all day. Later on, if he has a chance to, he will beg on his knees to suck Matt’s cock. He can’t keep up being dominant when he just wants Matt to grab him by the hair and fuck his face. When he wants to worship every part of Matt’s body, kiss his feet and profess his gratitude for getting to touch him.

Right now, though, Matt needs Foggy’s cock. That ass needs to be pounded. Foggy will do his duty. He rolls a condom on and covers it with lube, pressing the head against Matt’s asshole, which takes it easily. “God, yeah, more,” Matt says, squeezing Foggy’s body with the leg he has wrapped around him. Foggy obliges, pushing his cock in deeper, little by little, falling forward with his hands planted on either side of Matt. He pulls back slowly, then pushes in a few times, until he’s all the way in.

“Oh my God,” Matt croaks. “Foggy. You’re so thick and hot and good… Fuck me, baby.”

“Does your priest know you talk like that in bed?” Foggy chides him, jokingly, still keeping his thrusts molasses-slow. “You filthy-mouthed boy.” That earns him a long, low groan and Matt lifting his hips up to thrust back. Foggy sucks in a breath, finds he can just hold still and Matt can do all the fucking from underneath, his hips lifted up off the bed, his abs doing things that ought to be illegal.

“Jesus Christ, Matt,” Foggy says. He’s not going to last long this way.

“No … Blasphemy while… We’re fucking,” Matt gasps. “Unless you… Really need to.”

“I need to,” Foggy assures him. “Always loopholes in Catholicism, aren’t there?” Matt’s laugh makes him grin. Foggy gropes around for the lube bottle and opens it with difficulty with one hand, holding himself up with the other. “Here,” he says, “touch yourself.” He dribbles some lube on Matt’s dick as it moves away from his stomach, and Matt hisses in pleasure just from the drips hitting his frenulum.

“I’ll come pretty much immediately,” Matt warns, but he slides his fingers up his hard-on anyway, spreading the lube.

“Fine with me,” Foggy says. “As long as you don’t mind me fucking you through it.”

Foggy watches Matt wrap his hand around his dick, and how his head tilts back as he strokes it, and listens to the delicious sounds Matt makes as he gets closer to coming. He loses himself in masturbating and stops moving against Foggy’s dick, so Foggy takes over the thrusting. Then Matt gasps, and he’s crying out and convulsing; his ass is spasming around Foggy so hard that Foggy can’t hold back anymore. Foggy unleashes into him, his abdomen slapping against Matt’s butt as he pounds him, and the sight of Matt covering his own chest in come pushes Foggy over the edge.

He comes hard into Matt, transported too much to try to hold back any embarrassing or loud noises. He collapses on top of Matt at the end, Matt’s come getting all over him. He’s out of breath, sweaty, aware of his soft, fleshy body on top of Matt’s firm muscles, but he doesn’t care. Matt Murdock thinks he’s hot. Matt Murdock has jerked off thinking about him. Matt was totally into getting spanked by him, came all over himself getting fucked by him. To the extent that Foggy can even wrap his mind around it, it’s a rush like being a rock star.

\--

Afterwards, they sit in Foggy’s kitchen, Foggy in a t-shirt and bathrobe and Matt in boxers and nothing else. Foggy asks, and no, he isn’t cold. (Figures, Foggy thinks. He’s got the metabolism of a twenty-two-year-old made of solid muscle.) Foggy makes them a snack, and some coffee with bourbon in it, and Matt is still flirting with him non-stop while they eat and drink. Foggy does his best to keep up, but his brain is sleepy and slow. He wonders idly if the first fuck is too early to take a nap together, and decides firmly that yes, it is.

Half an hour after they left the bedroom, Matt takes Foggy’s coffee mug out of his hand and puts it down. He takes Foggy in his arms and starts kissing him again, sensual and slow. Foggy kisses back, running a hand through Matt’s unruly hair. But when Matt slides his hand up under Foggy’s bathrobe and up his thigh toward his crotch, Foggy stops him by the wrist and laughs.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Matt’s grin falters. “Another go?”

“You’re crazy, Murdock,” Foggy says. “I’m spent, dude. Forty is a different world, you’ll find out someday.”

Matt drops his hand and makes a very alluring pout-face. “So when will you be … refreshed and ready?”

“Tomorrow,” Foggy’s mouth says before his higher brain functions can stop it. He mentally smacks himself in the head for sounding too eager.

“Great,” Matt says. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll come over around noon? We can fuck like rabbits, then have some orange juice, you can read the newspaper to me?” When Foggy hesitates, he adds, “I make a mean omelette.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Foggy tells him, shaking his head. He’s not sure what he’s getting into, but right now it feels like something good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNIZofPB8ZM), so you can all have it in your heads, too. (wow, I never knew that video was so homoerotic)

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me flailing around on [tumblr](https://neurocrat.tumblr.com/)


End file.
